


Healing

by AkumaStrife



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkumaStrife/pseuds/AkumaStrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas was his mother's favorite time of year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

Stiles looks up in between the thick branches; layer after layer of that rich pine scent that makes him think back on chilly days with his mother wrapping his scarf too tightly around his neck. The colored lights blur in and out of focus and he has to bite his cheek hard. It’s been nine months since his mother passed away, and yet he still can’t bring himself to leave the safety of under the tree. 

“Hey, hey…”

“I’m fine.”

Scott sighs and kneels down to crawl under the tree and lay on his stomach next to him. “I know you are,” he says, careful and patient. “But you don’t have to be. It’s going to be okay, Stiles.” 

“No, it’s not. She’s never coming back.” He hiccups, and they both gracefully pretend it’s the alcohol. It was the only way Stiles could stomach the attic, could manage to drag out the christmas decorations without shriveling up and curling in on himself. Liquid courage, people always say. But Stiles knows it’s only self-medication and there’s nothing glamourous about it. Nothing poetic and grand about a crutch that cripples as much as it helps. 

“Stiles—“

“Don’t! Just… don’t.” Stiles presses a hand to his eyes and tries to breathe deeply, but it comes out shaky and Scott moves closer. Throws an arm over Stiles’ waist to drag him close; presses a few kisses into his cheek and the corner of his trembling mouth. Just rests his nose in the crook of Stiles’ neck and curls around him, his lips tickling Stiles’ shoulder when he speaks. 

“I know you miss your mom, and I know it’s never going to be the same again. But you still have me, and your Dad. We’re not going anywhere. Your mom would want you to be happy.”

Stiles chokes back a sob, his shoulders trembling ever so slightly. “Scott…”

“You’re allowed to miss her and still go on with your life.”

Stiles rolls over into him, shoving himself into all of Scott’s empty spaces. Quietly desperate as his mouth seeks Scott’s out, and the silence grates at Stiles’ ears. The house used to be so full of life, so full of his dad’s laughter and his mom’s singing and his own endless questions and jokes. The unnatural quiet of death suffocates him, and Scott will think back on this moment as the last time Stiles was willingly quiet. 

And long after they’ve drifted off the Sheriff comes home to see two sets of legs tangled together under the christmas tree.

He says nothing, and drinks a bit less. (Later he will think back on this Christmas as when things finally got a little better.)


End file.
